


Kiss Me (I'm Not Irish)

by wintersoldierarcherspy (ilovemyalpaca)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky is charmed, Clint is drunk, Green Beer, M/M, Meet-Cute, St. Patrick's Day, idk how to tag these things, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 20:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovemyalpaca/pseuds/wintersoldierarcherspy
Summary: Bucky doesn't like bars. He doesn't like people or loud noises or the hideous green beer they're serving for St. Patrick's day. He does love Steve Rogers but he doesn't particularly like him at this moment. He might also like the cute drunk guy in his booth. Jury's still out on that one.





	Kiss Me (I'm Not Irish)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. We die like men.   
> First fanfic in 6 years. Jesus.

The bar was loud. He was grateful that they'd at least managed to snag a booth before it had gotten too crowded but god, at what cost? Why had Bucky even come out again? Oh right, because Steve Rogers was an asshole that used Puppy Eyes for manipulative reasons. 

"Remind me again why you suddenly remember you're Irish around March 17th and promptly forget it again on March 18th?"

Steve didn't bother to dignify that with a response and Bucky looked for something he could throw at him. Seriously, asshole. The asshole in question finally stopped looking around the room like he was looking for someone and smirked at Bucky. 

"Look, Buddy, we need to be more social. And this is fun! There's beer and people and dancing. You used to love this stuff." 

Bucky grumbled quietly and tried very hard to imagine Steve's head exploding. God damn it, he hated that he loved this dude. He also hated that Steve had a point. Bucky had kind of gone into something of a spiral in the last couple of years. He honestly felt like he had that right. He'd gone through two tours overseas and made it through the war in one piece, with just a smidge of PTSD, only to get into a car accident and lose his fucking arm. If anyone deserved to be a hermit, it was him, okay?  
But Steve... good-hearted, annoying as fuck, hopeful Steve... He was just trying to look out for him. Bucky had turned him down so many times in the past. At least this had guaranteed him beer. 

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry for being a spoilsport. But if someone pukes on me, I'm blaming you. I don't care if you're even there. it's your fault."

Steve laughed and clapped him once on his good shoulder. "Wouldn't have it any other way, pal. You need a refill?"

Bucky nodded and drained the last of his- ugh- green beer. His best friend disappeared through the crowd to grab them some more and Bucky slumped into the seat enough to prop his feet on the opposite bench. He was focusing on the paper coaster, twirling it like a top on its side, when the seat next to him was suddenly occupied. 

"What, you decide you're too good to sit by my feet or something?"

Bucky turned to look at the blonde next to him. And then frowned. This blonde was not his blonde. 

"Well, I mean, I'm not usually into feet but I could make an exception for you. Just thought it'd be easier to kiss you from here."

Bucky squinted at Not-Steve. "I'm not Irish." The guy had obviously been here longer than him. He was... damn, yeah, he was really drunk. Just.. absolutely smashed. His own mug of green beer was about half full but there was no way that was his first. Actually, it was probably something like his tenth. Not-Steve grinned brightly and shoved up closer to Bucky, making him lean away and scowl a little. 

"Wanna know a secret? Neither am I!" Not-Steve cackled in obvious delight and Bucky's nose wrinkled as he took him in. Okay, so drunk guy was... actually hot and maybe Bucky found his amusement a little cute. But he still was kinda concerned about the level of intoxication happening here. 

"Pal, I think maybe you should go find your friends and have them take you home. Or call you a cab if you ain't got a DD. You're looking a little sloshy there." 

Not-Steve whined- God, he actually whined. Was that cute? Why was that cute?- and leaned away. 

"You're no fun, Mr. Grumpy Gills. Saw you looking all gloom and doom and it's fucking Saint Paddy's day! There's... like... green beer! And the only thing better than green beer is purple beer!" 

Bucky blinked at him for a second. 

"Do they make purple beer?"

Not-Steve slumped. "No. And purple's my favorite. But since green beer is the next best.. Green beer!" He sloshed his cup forward like he was toasting or clinking glasses and said his cheer loud enough that tables near them took it up with him. Bucky, despite himself, chuckled a little. 

"You, my friend, are very drunk."

The blonde giggled and leaned in again. "Yep." He popped the 'p' and Bucky was surprised that his dick gave a little twitch at the sight of those rounded lips. Well, okay then, libido. Good to see you again. Where you been, buddy? But this man was decidedly drunk and that meant this wasn't happening tonight. 

"Okay. Let's go find your friends." Bucky started nudging him out of the booth, intending to follow and find... someone who recognized the guy enough to get him home. 

"Wait, wait, no. We still didn't kiss."

Bucky sighed. "No, and we're not gonna because you're drunk." 

The blonde-Jesus, Bucky needed something to call him besides Blonde Guy and Not-Steve- frowned and thought very hard about that. "Okay. Then we'll have to kiss when I'm not drunk. Gimme your phone." 

Bucky frowned and Not-Steve rolled his eyes, swaying as he did. He set his beer down and dug around in his pocket, producing a slightly beat up ink pen. He proceeded to write on the empty coaster and then shoved it into Bucky's chest. "There. Call me tomorrow. Or wait, I'll be hungover tomorrow. Call me the next day, whatever day that is. And we can kiss then. Kay?" He got briefly distracted by Bucky's chest, his gaze falling to his hand and going a little glassy. He petted Bucky's pecs and Bucky had to force himself not to laugh. Yeah, he probably needed to get out more because he was kind of charmed by the guy. "Yeah... definitely call me. Sober me is going to love drunk me for this one." 

Bucky burst into his own laugh. Where did this guy come from? 

"Okay. Now can we find your friends?"

"One sec..." Clint turned and yakked directly on the floor beside the booth and Bucky was scowling again. 

"Man, that is gross! And now we gotta walk past that shit."

"Hey, look, green puke."

"Oh my god. No. Just... no." Bucky glanced at the coaster, noticing the wobbling name scribbled there. He shoved it in his pocket to deal with later. "Clint. Hey, Clint, Buddy, you gotta go home. They don't let you stay if you're throwing up. Who did you come with?"

"Natasha."

"Okay. Let's go find her." Bucky stood carefully on the bench and stepped over Clint, waving at the guy in the next booth who looked disturbed by a grown man several feet in the air where he wasn't supposed to be. Then Bucky dropped to the floor, carefully missing the puddle of green vomit. Thank god Clint had aimed away from him. And well, if it sorta was in between the two booths, well, Bucky wasn't going to complain about actually being able to get Clint out of his seat without stepping in it. Sorry fellas at the table. It's St. Patrick's day. What can you expect? 

Bucky was saved from having to physically carry Clint through the bar with one arm by Steve walking up. He took one look at the situation, set their beers down on the table, and hefted the other side of Clint. God, sometimes he loved the man. 

"So.. you're making friends."

"I don't wanna talk about it. Look for literally anyone that looks like a Natasha." 

It took several tries to find the woman and in the end, Clint was the one that actually found her. After asking the fourth woman if her name was Natasha, the drunk in their arms lurched forward with a gleeful shriek. 

"Natasha! Babe! Oh my gosh, look who I met! Isn't he pretty? I'm gonna kiss him for St. Pad- St. Pat- St. Padlock's day! But not today because I'm drunk. Hey, hey, Natasha, I love you." 

Bucky was kind of relieved to have Clint out of his arms as the redhead glared between them and Clint. She was scary. And he was also a little worried about the status of Clint and Natasha's relationship. She didn't seem pleased that Clint wanted to kiss him. 

Steve nodded politely and then turned to make sure they hadn't lost their table or their beers in the meantime. He mumbled something about date rape drugs and left Bucky alone with the- couple? 

"Sorry, ma'am. He was throwing up so I figured it was a good idea to get him home. Uh, so, we found you. Do you need any help getting him to the car?"

Her eyes glanced over at his shoulder and Bucky fought the urge to vomit himself. What a rollercoaster of a night. He really should stay home. 

"No. Thank you." 

She was curt, her voice slightly accented. But Bucky thought maybe her eyes had softened just a bit. He ground his teeth together and nodded before turning and abandoning them to their fate. 

Steve was smirking when Bucky got back to the booth. 

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Well then I hate St. Patrick's day."

"No, you don't." 

"Yes, I do. St. Paddy can kiss my ass." 

"Mhmm."

Bucky flipped him off and then went back to drinking. He needed it after that whole incident. 

\---

Bucky hadn't quite forgotten about the pretty blonde with the goofy mannerisms three days later when he went to get coffee. He wanted to. Clint had pretty much taken over his mind. But he had felt a little uneasy about the event after meeting Natasha. There was some sort of history, some sort of relationship, and Bucky wasn't sure he knew how to navigate something complicated like that. That wasn't even touching the insecurities he felt over his own body since the accident. Therapy helped but it hadn't magically solved all his problems. So the coaster with the number had come home with him and then sat on his nightstand, taunting him, for the last three days. 

Bucky was standing in line in the local coffee shop- because goddamnit, he might sound like a hipster but he was not going to support Starbucks- when someone cursed loudly. Bucky turned, expecting the usual angry customer and found himself looking at a sheepish and familiar blonde. Clint was trying to step backward quietly and not be noticed but failed spectacularly by knocking over the sugar shaker on the table nearest him. He waved a little when he saw that Bucky had noticed him. 

"Oh. Hi. You, uh, come get coffee here too?" He winced like he thought his own line was dumb. Bucky snorted and nodded. Clint shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around with an air of nonchalance that was anything but natural. "You, uh... you didn't call."

Bucky opened his mouth and then snapped it closed. He wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't called. It wasn't because he wasn't interested. In fact, Clint was one of the first people he'd been attracted to in a while. Bucky winced. 

"Yeah.. I... I wasn't sure you were serious? And then there was Natasha and I didn't know if that was like a girlfriend or what. So... I didn't call."

Clint blinked and then started laughing. Bucky huffed and tried not to feel like he was being made fun of. Clint must have noticed because he quickly gestured toward Bucky in a calming manner. 

"No, no, just.. Natasha. Oh my god, why does everyone think we're dating? She's like my sister and I am... so gay." 

Bucky felt a small, hopeful smile breaking out. "So... not your girlfriend?"

"No. God, no."

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And, uh, you were serious? About me?"

Clint frowned a little and nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Bucky pressed his lips together and looked away, gesturing toward his shoulder-and missing arm- without looking at Clint's reaction. He heard the obnoxious snort though. 

"You think I give a shit about that? Dude, I'm deaf. Doesn't make me less of a person. And you're like really hot. Of course, I wanna kiss you. I wouldn't mind buying your coffee either. And like... see where it goes from there? I wanna give it a chance." 

Bucky had looked back over somewhere in the middle of Clint's little speech and now a bright smile bloomed on his face. 

"Yeah... okay." 

"Okay." Clint smiled back, body language looking a lot more at ease. "How about that kiss then? It's not St. Patrick's day anymore but no time like the present." 

Bucky nodded slightly and stepped a little closer. Clint met him halfway. The first press of lips against his was amazing. Clint's were a little chapped but so full and plush. Bucky wanted more and so he gave a little sigh and pushed further into it. He felt Clint smile against his mouth and then hands came up to cradle his face. The kiss deepened and Bucky shivered a little in the taller man's arms. Before it could get too heavy for a public space, Clint pulled back. 

"Well... That was worth the wait. Happy St. Patrick's day." 

"Happy St. Patrick's day." 

A throat cleared behind them and both jerked somewhat guiltily apart. A little old lady was watching them with kind, but annoyed eyes. 

"Real happy that you two made up but I'd like to order my coffee now." 

Bucky blinked and then laughed when he realized that they had kissed directly in the middle of the line and that three patrons were standing there waiting their turns. He stepped out of the way and Clint ushered them forward. 

"So sorry about that. Sometimes you just gotta kiss a pretty man." 

Bucky was, once again, charmed. He had a feeling that meeting Clint was going to be the best thing that ever happened to him. St. Paddy could still kiss his ass though.


End file.
